Numb Encore
by fuzzy-ninja
Summary: Drabbles done for the music meme. Spans through G1, TFA, and the movie!verse. Rating to be on the safe side.  COMPLETED
1. Chapter 1

I wrote these between 2009 and 2010, first time posting them here on ff[dot]net. Did these for the music meme. I've split these into three chapters each: chapter 1 will contain drabbles from the G1ish universe, chapter 2 is all about Animated, and the third chapter has drabbles from the movie!verse. Enjoy!

_Put your entire music collection on shuffle, hit play, and write. Write for as long as each song plays and move on to a different writing when the song switches (even if it's mid-sentence). Go for ten songs (or five). If nothing comes, it still counts. If you're listening to a comedian, you can skip it._

I don't own Transformers, and I don't own these songs. I sort of "own" them in the sense that in some way or another, I have them on some form of media, and probably procured them in an illegal fashion. But that's neither here nor there, right? Right. I suppose I also own any random background characters too.

* * *

><p><strong>Evident Utensil -by- Chairlift<strong>  
>As Prowl walked through the hallways of the Ark, the familiar sounds of his comrades conversing drifted into his audio. The steady, happy, sounds told him that everything was going good, there were no pranks being pulled, no emergencies, ahh, yes, nothing but the sweet silence of cogs in a great machine.<br>"Mu-wah."  
>Then there was<em> that<em> sound. He blinked (well, if he could blink, he was sure that he would have blinked), and listened again. It was a sort of sucking noise, followed suddenly by an elated joy, the source coming from Wheeljack's lab. Curious, Prowl peeked his head through one of the open doors to the lab, only to see the disturbing sight of 'Jack noisily kissing a rather large yellow piece of wood with a sort of rubbery bit on the top. Knowing that further inquiry would only make his processors fritz, Prowl carefully backed away from the doors as fast as he could.

**Natasha Beats The Devil -by- 65daysostatic**  
>The Decepticon cassette listened to the sound patterns etched upon the tape film- it hurt because of how deep he felt the pain- no not his- hers. That damn Rosanna. Who did she think she was? How dare she... to compose this... and to make him feel this way. Primus be damned, she recorded it only to be played when her spark expired. She wasn't carrying useful information, as he had originally thought; it was just the ghost of an old relationship turned sour due to war.<p>

**Never Gonna Give You Up -by- Rick Astley**  
>Interesting things had a tendency to happen when the Decepticon superior officers got drunk together at their centennial "Bad-Aft Motherboard-Fragger Convention". Specifically, the interesting things happened <em>because<em> of Soundwave. There would be awkward times when the normally silent communications bot would play cheesy human '80's ballads, sometimes (most of the time) dedicating them to Megatron.

**Ants Marching -by- Dave Matthews Band**  
>"Yuck."<br>Hound's audio perked up at the small, squeakish sound, followed by a swift smacking sound of plastic hitting dirt. He looked to his left, at the young human female designated as Jill. Jill was a pleasant little addition to the growing family of humans helping out at the Autobot base. Hound adored these smaller versions of humans, and often found himself standing watch over the children as they played outside.  
>"Eww!" Jill shrieked again, hitting the ground with a small plastic yellow shovel. Hound looked over at the ground. "What's wrong, Jill?"<br>"Ants." The five-year old answered seriously, inspecting the dirt for survivng ants. She stared, shovel ready to smack. "You don't like ants, Jill?" Hound asked, amused. Jill enjoyed the natural world and could often be found playing outside, rather than planted in front of a television like the other children. "I hate them!" She yelled, hitting a small mound of light-brown sand.  
>"Why is that?"<br>"They're small an' gross. An' they're ever-e-where." Jill looked up at Hound. "You're big! Hound, you should step on all of them!"  
>"But why would I want to do that? Ants may be small, but they're capable of some amazing things. Underneath those dirt hills, they build complex tunnel systems."<p>

Jill blinked, unable to understand why something as big as Hound did not want to step on the icky bugs. Hound picked up on her confusion, and bent down to get closer to her.  
>"You know Jill, to us, you humans are as small as ants. But you don't see us stepping on you, right?"<br>Jill gasped and threw down the plastic shovel. "Yeah, you're right!"


	2. Chapter 2

I wrote these between 2009 and 2010, first time posting them here on ff[dot]net. Did these for the music meme. I've split these into three chapters each: chapter 1 will contain drabbles from the G1ish universe, chapter 2 is all about Animated, and the third chapter has drabbles from the movie!verse. Enjoy!

_Put your entire music collection on shuffle, hit play, and write. Write for as long as each song plays and move on to a different writing when the song switches (even if it's mid-sentence). Go for ten songs (or five). If nothing comes, it still counts. If you're listening to a comedian, you can skip it._

I don't own Transformers, and I don't own these songs. I sort of "own" them in the sense that in some way or another, I have them on some form of media, and probably procured them in an illegal fashion. But that's neither here nor there, right? Right. I suppose I also own any random background characters too.

* * *

><p><strong>Overkill -by- Metallica<strong>  
>Swindle lived a dangerous life. Of course, he could have always settled down and get a nice job behind a desk, not ever getting shot at, or threatened. But where was the fun in that? Or the money. One mustn't ever forget the money.<br>Despite his hefty-sized bank account, the mech lived in low standard conditions. But then again, one couldn't really live like a king in New Kaon City. The combined danger of his living conditions and the risks associated with his "job" always meant that his personal security was number one. His defenses needed to be top-notch.  
>Carefully loading a big gun in place between the mech's armor plates, a young femme, his current partner-in-crime, asked, "D'ya ever think it's too much? Like an overkill?" She gestured to all the weapons around them.<br>He grinned and cupped her chin, "My dear, the overkill is what it's all about."

**Playing With The Boys -by- Kenny Loggins**  
>Flying was a wondrous source of freedom, especially from her idiot "brothers". Dubbed as Femmescream (much to her chagrin, as well as to the original Starscream), she maintained a simple role between creator and clones- mediator. After all, if it wasn't for her, the idiots would have been scrap metal for messing around with the wrong bots. <em>It all sounds so simple. Be their sparksitter. Simple, yeah right!<em> She rolled her optics.  
>"Hey girlie," the egomaniac clone, Thundercracker, zoomed up through the clouds, interrupting her thoughts and peace, "We're supposed to be doing practice flights, not aimlessly wandering about. But then again, you are quite inferior, being a femme and the whatnot."<br>Femmescream growled, fists balled, ready to knock the slag right out of him.

**Looking Back -by- Yiruma**  
>Optimus spent a great deal of time looking back. As a leader, he often looked to his past faults and constructed ways to correct these glitches. One fault that he was having trouble with, the same one over and over, the same damn fault that almost offlined his comrades, was Blackarachnia. The techno-organic weaved herself around in his CPU and refused to move out. It was a big fault, a big distraction, and a big regret. But being a leader, he could not have faults, much less distractions.<br>When he had finally had it with her childish games of cat-and-mouse, Optimus walked straight to Ratchet. "I need you to go into my memory core."  
>"What for?"<br>"Something glitched. Needs to be erased, stat."  
>Memory core wipeouts? It was something the veteran knew too much about. He would argue against memory loss, especially of one who once meant something so much, but who was higher up on the chain of command, he, or the Prime? With a heavy spark, Ratchet agreed. "Understood, Prime."<p>

**Slow Jamz -by- Kanye West (ft. Jamie Foxx & Twista)**  
>Life in Detroit was no longer the interesting roller coaster ride of good transforming robots versus bad transforming robots. Things became as they were- normal. Even the criminals got back into their usual hustle and bustle, now that the threat of giant robots had been removed. Jails were eventually destroyed in a fit of blue-collar labor union anarchy. Robotics factories were also points of destruction for the union agenda. Slo-Mo stood on a cliff, staring out at the burning factories. It was the blurred progress of technology that had caused all this. Technology just had to learn how to take it slow.<p>

**Real Big -by- Mannie Fresh**  
>Sari wasn't quite sure of what to expect when she first came to Cybertron. Robots, obviously. A world similar to Detroit- cities fully mechanized. Basically, that's what it was. She also found that Cybertron had it's share of what she likened to hip-hop subculture- bots that transformed in low riders, gold spinning rims on tires, kickin' radio systems with thumping bass components that blasted fast-paced Cybertronian music, something that resembled fluffy plush interior (for whom, she wasn't sure that she really wanted to know)... "They're pimpbots." Jazz explained to her, as she stared mouth open in shock, at one of the aforementioned pimpbots (his paintjob resembling leopard print) smacking his glitches and hoes.<p>

**Plowed -by- Sponge**  
><em>Rock 'n' roll is bad, it'll poison your mind!<em> Parents have been screaming the same words to their offspring for decades, fearful of sex, drugs, and the wild lifestyle of deviance and debauchery that the music genre encouraged. Soundwave took note of the natural teenage rebelliousness that humans seemed to possess and worked it to his advantage. Rock 'n' roll no longer encouraged sex and drugs, it demanded that they destroy, dismantle, kill, anarchize, and worship their robot masters.  
>All in all, the kids really should have listened to their parents.<p>

**Bleeding Love -by- Leona Lewis**  
>It was a rather warm and sunny day in Detroit, but instead of facing the risk of being covered <em>again<em> in parking tickets, Ratchet decided to take his stasis nap inside the Autobot base. The other bots had gone off to take a pleasant windshield-warming drive around the city before the rush hour, leaving Ratchet to finally have some peace and quiet in the normally hectic base. Yes, nothing but peace and quiet for the next few hours...

Until a loud noise erupted from the speaker system.

Optics flashed on, a grunt and a groan elicited from Ratchet as he scrambled off the recharge bed and rushed to the main area of the headquarters. "It couldn't be Soundwave again, could it? No, too soon!"  
>"Hey Ratch." A voice greeted him from below. The medibot nearly tripped over himself. "Sari?"<br>"Yo."  
>He blinked in disbelief, suddenly putting the pieces together. "You're the one messin' with the speakers?"<br>"I'm not messing with anything! I simply recalibrated the input broadcast signal so I can get my favorite radio station to play here. I gotta win these tickets they're giving out! I figured Autobot technology would be my best bet to get those tickets." She replied matter-of-factly.  
>"Sari-" Ratchet was about to give her a stern elcture on the importance of keeping the radio clear for emergency broadcasts, when she shushed him harshly. "I just gotta wait for them to play the song, okay Ratchet?"<br>"Hmph."

A few commercial passed on, and the obnoxious DJ made a few announcements about this, that, and whatever. It was too confusing for Ratchet to bother with, all he wanted was some alone time before the rest of the crew would return. To his left, Sari let out an excited squeal. "There's the song!" She pressed a few buttons and began to connect to the radio station. Ratchet listened to the music, unimpressed. The female singer had already started singing the chorus lines when Ratchet decided to interrupt. "Sari, are you hearin' this glitch?"  
>"Shh!"<br>Somewhat defeated, he turned back to the communications console. The female singer sang out, "I keep bleeding, I keep keep bleeding love..."  
>"Yeah? Well go see a doctor!" Ratchet yelled back at the speakers.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

I wrote these between 2009 and 2010, first time posting them here on ff[dot]net. Did these for the music meme. I've split these into three chapters each: chapter 1 will contain drabbles from the G1ish universe, chapter 2 is all about Animated, and the third chapter has drabbles from the movie!verse. I've only seen the first movie, violently vomited after watching the first fifteen minutes of the second movie, and was advised by my physician to not see the third movie. So clearly, I may have written things that don't go 100% according to movie canon. Please don't remind me of this.

_Put your entire music collection on shuffle, hit play, and write. Write for as long as each song plays and move on to a different writing when the song switches (even if it's mid-sentence). Go for ten songs (or five). If nothing comes, it still counts. If you're listening to a comedian, you can skip it._

I don't own Transformers, and I don't own these songs. I sort of "own" them in the sense that in some way or another, I have them on some form of media, and probably procured them in an illegal fashion. But that's neither here nor there, right? Right. I suppose I also own any random background characters too.

* * *

><p><strong>Boom (It's On) -by- Ying Yang Twins<strong>  
>Throughout the years, the rag-tag team of Autobots often turned to humor during their darkest of times. Lately, they had adopted the human game of Charades, but instead of mimicking actions, they would often mimic each other.<br>Hilariously, though completely inappropriate (so said Prowl, but it's been recorded that he too was laughing his respective aft off), Sunstreaker had made the mistake of over-mocking Ironhide's trigger-happy personality, only to have his pretty face meet with Ironhide's pretty fist.  
>It was a pretty good game.<p>

**Bamf -by- Dane Cook**  
>Sam and Miles often found themselves flipping through magazines unlike most teenagers, who took solace with television. Car mags and girlie mags were the most popular on their reading list; they'd spend hours gazing at glossy pictures of cars they would never have the money to own, or attractive women they would never have the chance to sleep with. It was a good life, at least, as they imagined it could be.<p>

**Ready, Steady, Go -by- Paul Oakenfold**  
>The Tokyo drift scene was always exciting, heart-pounding, adrenaline-pumping action. With a pretty Harajuku girl decked in neon clothes in his passenger seat, and a whole plethora of new Earth modifications, the Nissan Skyline GT-R zoomed through empty city streets and busy sidewalks. The lights of downtown Tokyo gleamed off his tight white and black paint job, it would be more romantic if it didn't feel so... illegal. Something deep in his processors told him this was all so wrong.<br>His passenger suddenly and excitedly squealed out, "Go Prowr-san, go go!", as the competition came roaring behind him.

**Benzin -by- Rammstein**  
>Barricade grunted.<br>When things were slow, he usually found himself working for the squishy organic creatures. Granted, his comrades would mock and shun him for even thinking about taking orders from a human, but truth be told, at least the money was good, and he was able to enjoy himself all at the same time.  
>The mustached holoform often found itself in underground fight clubs, earning money for gas- simple human fuel that could be easily converted to energon after ingestion. <em>Huh. Kicking ass for energon?<em>, he punched a twentysomething man in the mouth, knocking out his two front teeth, _Just like old times._

**Pull Over -by- Trina**  
>"Even with a goddamn Camaro, I still get no respect!" Sam whined as he slid into the driver's seat of said Camaro. Mikaela followed suit to the passenger seat. Bumblebee's voice spoke through the radio, "What do you mean, Sam?"<br>"Nothin' 'Bee."  
>Mikaela just shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Let's just go home."<br>The Camaro turned it's engine on, drove out of the student's parking lot, coming to an idling stop at the first traffic light. Pulling up beside them was Trent with his Escalade. The windows were rolled down, exposing his Dumb Best Friend and Hottie Entourage. Leaning towards the passenger window, he yelled out, "Hey Wicky- how's that yellow piece of shit treatin' you?" To prove some sort of masculine point, he revved the Escalade's engine.  
>Sam snarled something vicious to himself, while Mikaela whispered, "'Bee..." The Camaro revved it's engine in response, the radio blasting out, "I'm the baddest bitch, you gotta admit that!".<br>When the red-light switched to green, the "yellow piece of shit" sped from the spot like a bat out of hell, leaving behind a stunned Trent (and entourage).

**How to Disappear Completely (And Never Be Found Again) -by- Radiohead**  
>None of them had any idea where the tactician went. After their departure from a dying Cybertron, everyone had gone off on their separate ways. Contact between teams should have happened, but could not have happened, due to Sounwdave's constant interference to their systems. Thus, contact was sporadic.<br>Now on Earth, and waiting for more comrades to arrive, Optimus waited. The 'cons were still out there, with a greater primordial evil working with them. Things were bad; his comrades, both human and Autobot, would soon be no match. He needed Prowl's guidance, his understanding of how Megatron and his troops operated, in order to counterattack.

Millions upon millions of astral miles away, Prowl had his optics fixed solely on the Decepticon group in front of him, finger on the trigger.

**Fuel -by- Metallica**  
>The Mustang's engine purred loudly as it ripped through the hot black California highway, the only other noise heard was from the Camaro he was currently playing tag with. Barricade hadn't meant to get caught, but in all fairness, that drunk human who extracted his liquids ("puking", as the fleshbags called it) all over the hood of the black sports car probably didn't mean to end up under Barricade's foot. Sadly, these unexpected things seemed to happen a lot to the poor Decepticon.<p>

A light blipped on, and a noise happened. He was low on fuel... again. _Damn these cheap terra fuels! And the prices humans charge for them is outrageous_! A mustached holoform came to life in his driver's seat and the glovebox popped open, revealing wads of American dollars. The holoform picked out two crisp twenty dollar bills from a wad, as the car pulled into the nearest Sunoco station. Having humans around for the moment being gave Barricade some insurance that Bumblebee wouldn't spring to action while he could refuel and convert the terra sludge to smooth energon...

The holoform watched as Bumblebee pulled into the pump behind him, a young-looking blonde holoform materializing in the driver's seat, flipping the Mustang off.

**Yamaha Mama -by- Soulja Boy**  
>Being attacked by the Autobots was not a rare thing, currently, seeing as how Prime must have called in extra soldiers, getting a smackdown was becoming a normal thing for the interceptor. Despite this, Barricade was still shocked to see Arcee among the new troops. Too many old memories stirred in the hardened Decepticon's core, his reactions quite suddenly became too late as the pink motorcycle swiftly transformed into his ex-mate (well, they never really technically officially broke up, the war took care of that for them). The next thing Barricade knew, the pink 'bot had knocked him off his feet, straddled his chest while pointing a loaded electro-crossbow at his face, yelling something about a surrender or blah blah. The only thing he could really process in the sudden daze was, <em>yeah, she still digs me<em>.

**Hello Zepp -by- Charlie Clouser**  
>Barricade onlined groggy and disorientated. He tried to move, the effort was in vain as his hands were tied to a metal pole and his legs were trapped in some sort of elaborate clockworkesque contraption. He analyzed the metals in a quick scan- they were human-made. <em>What sort of human could make such a device as this?<em> He briefly thought of the female with Ladiesman217, as he had heard from reports that she was frighteningly good with power tools...  
>A light buzzed to life above his head, revealing there was more to the trapping that he had originally realized- it was quite an effective-looking death trap. Whoever the human who had built this was, Barricade knew he was going to have to congratulate them for such a piece of masterful art. Then, he was going to have to kill them for placing him in it. An old television in the corner clicked on and a puppet with bulls-eyes painted on its cheeks began to speak. "Hello Barricade. Do you want to play a game?"<p> 


End file.
